


Warm Nights and Car Seats

by Proctor



Series: Motel Adventures [3]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Sex, Car Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, mild spoilers for season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proctor/pseuds/Proctor
Summary: Technically not a 'motel adventure' but rather, a 'car adventure'. :DI didn't think I would ever add a third part to this series, but I decided to crawl out of the woodwork for this one. That said, I may have missed the party since season 2 aired months ago now and I imagine that there are quite a few 'car sex' fics already out there by now XD  After all, the 'stakeout montage' was one of the few slashable moments in the season. *cries*I need my boys! XDI don't know that you *need* to have read the last two to read this one, except to know that they had a sort of 'friends-with-benefits-but-a-little-more-than-that' thing going on when they were staying in motels together, but they would give you a better idea of where they’re at in their relationship and are super short.Anyway, hope you like this one! :)
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Series: Motel Adventures [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/860940
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	Warm Nights and Car Seats

**Author's Note:**

> Technically not a 'motel adventure' but rather, a 'car adventure'. :D
> 
> I didn't think I would ever add a third part to this series, but I decided to crawl out of the woodwork for this one. That said, I may have missed the party since season 2 aired months ago now and I imagine that there are quite a few 'car sex' fics already out there by now XD After all, the 'stakeout montage' was one of the few slashable moments in the season. *cries*  
> I need my boys! XD
> 
> I don't know that you *need* to have read the last two to read this one, except to know that they had a sort of 'friends-with-benefits-but-a-little-more-than-that' thing going on when they were staying in motels together, but they would give you a better idea of where they’re at in their relationship and are super short.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like this one! :)

Bill took a swig of cold coffee, draining the cup and giving it a gentle shake to make sure there was nothing left before stuffing it in a paper bag along with five other empty containers. Throwing it in the back seat - the customary place for their garbage since there was nowhere to dispose of it in the middle of rural Atlanta - he leaned forward and ran both palms down his face. The heat was unbearable, the mosquitoes aggressive, and the evening so far uneventful.

Holden watched as Bill slumped back against the car seat, eyelashes feathering down over weary, pale-blue eyes under the weak dome lights of the car. It wasn’t the first time his gaze had lingered on his partner since their stakeouts began, and with Bill’s recent absences, he had found himself re-mapping every contour of his face whenever an opportunity arose: the straight line of his nose, the angle of his wide jaw, and the lines on his brow below his clipped silver hair. It wasn’t as though he had forgotten how he looked, he just liked to be reminded.

“Gloria Gaynor or Barbra Streisand?” he said.

Bill didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Sitting in a car with Holden was like taking a kid on a road trip: he posed pointless hypotheticals, asked far too many questions, and talked until he tired himself out. It was entertaining for the most part, and he had been used to spending much longer stretches with him during their cross-state lectures, but _damn_ it was exhausting. Holden had been trying to coax a conversation out of him for the last hour, but to his slightly smug satisfaction, hadn’t succeeded. He wasn’t trying to be an asshole though, he enjoyed his company, but he was tired, tired and old. “Not sure,” he replied without opening his eyes.

Holden shouldn’t have been surprised, it was the latest in a string of short, dismissive answers tonight, and that didn’t include his wide variety of grunts. There was nothing he particularly wanted him to say, he just enjoyed the interaction. “How is Nancy?”

Bill gave a snort of amusement, and Holden narrowed his eyes at him in confusion. “What’s funny?”

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Bill replied, finally turning to face him, a smirk on his lips.

“What am I doing, Bill?”

“ _You_ want to talk,” he said, pointing a finger at him, “I _don’t_ want to talk,” pointing a thumb at himself, “But you _know_ that if you enquire about my wife’s well-being, then out of respect for _her_ , I _have_ to answer.”

“That was not my intention at all,” Holden said, slowly shaking his head as though deeply concerned by the accusation.

“Uh-huh.”

Holden waited around ten seconds before speaking again. “But, you know…it _did_ get you talking.”

“I…” Bill started, then frowned. He’d been had. “You _knew_ I was gonna argue with you.”

“Arguments are… talking.”

Bill gave a gruff laugh - one that rumbled pleasantly in Holden’s gut - then reached for his pack of cigarettes, lighting one and hanging an arm out of the open window. “You’re something else, Holden,” he said, chuckling around the filter before taking a drag and slowly letting it out, the wisps of smoke gently curling from between the bow of his lips.

Holden smiled, and was about to sit back and revel in his victory when he noticed Bill’s free hand fumble to undo the third button of his shirt as he stared out the window. It was such a minor gesture, but from the way his thick, blunt fingertips worked the small button out, to the glimpse of graying chest hair that it exposed above his vest, Holden found himself not only entranced by the sight… but aroused, his cock giving a shallow pulse between his legs. They hadn’t spent much time together recently, and their reliance on each other for…relief - the kind of relief that they didn’t tend to speak about afterwards - had been made almost redundant. He wondered if Bill was otherwise satisfied.

“So…” he started, idly picking at his suit pants, trying to appear as indifferent as possible, “I take it then, that you and Nancy haven’t…” but let the question hang unfinished in the air.

Bill turned his head. “Haven’t _what?_ ” he asked, seriously and with deliberate challenge. He knew what he was getting at, but he _dared_ him to say it.

Holden raised his flat palms in front of him, “Nothing, nothing at all.”

Bill sighed, he hadn’t meant to be so prickly, Holden was just being… Holden. “Haven’t what?” he repeated, this time more softly, “had sex?”

Holden hadn’t expected him to be quite so forthright about it, and was unprepared for the excited jolt his cock gave from Bill’s casual use of the word, the ‘x’ sounding almost explicit as it clicked at the front of his mouth.

He cleared his throat. “I was going to say… ‘been intimate’, but yes.”

“She’s had other things on her mind.”

It was an answer, but not a complete one. “And…you? Have you had other-?”

“-Yes Holden, I’ve had other things on my mind.”

Holden gave a deep nod. _Best leave this one alone._ “That is perfectly understan-.”

“-Most of the time,” Bill added with a mumble, looking back out the window. The words had barely left his mouth when he pressed his lips tightly together and closed his eyes - he could have kicked himself. _Why in the hell did he say that?_ He hoped that Holden hadn’t noticed the remark.

Holden noticed the remark.

“And… the rest of the time?” he pressed.

Bill flicked the end of his cigarette out the window and faced him. “You never let up, do you?” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking in amusement. “Of course I think about it. Who doesn’t? But, you know, sometimes you gotta pick your priorities. You don’t always get to have everything you want. That’s life.”

 _Well, that was unexpectedly profound,_ but so general that he couldn’t be sure what he was actually trying to say. “Okay,” he agreed, “I appreciate that. But is there something you want…” then briefly hesitated, “…from me?”

Bill stilled, then gave a soft laugh at his own obliviousness. He had completely misread the situation. He thought Holden was attempting to interrogate him about his marriage: gain insight, make judgements, offer council, all things that he really didn’t need right now - but no. Holden was offering him something else entirely, something he knew well - though not recently - something he thought about often...

“Because, you know, I’m happy to help,” Holden added.

That last sentence seemed to have an effect, and Bill folded his arms across his bulky chest, one eyebrow arched curiously, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “You’re happy to ‘help’, are you?”

“Well, yes. I mean, I am currently…available and…interested,” he said, pausing between each word as he weighed them.

Bill chortled, shaking his head in disbelief. Holden might excel in interviews with serial killers, but the way he conversed with average people was like nothing he had ever seen. If this was an attempt at flirtation, it was dreadful. How had he _ever_ gotten a girlfriend?

He didn’t mean that, not really. Holden was as clever and vibrant as he was naive and unpredictable. He made him smile, laugh, feel... _something_ ; and as Bill took in the sight of him: the inquisitive, hopeful expression on that doe-eyed baby-face of his; the strands of his usually impeccably-gelled chestnut hair hanging limply across his brow from the heat; and the way his shirt - a half size too small in his opinion - clung tightly to the toned chest beneath it, he couldn’t deny that he looked good: sweet, a little goofy, but really... good. And he was interested? Still? In _him?_

“Fine,” he said.

“Fine?” Holden repeated suspiciously. _It couldn’t be that easy._

Bill gave a single slow nod. The thought of Holden's hand on his cock was a satisfying one and the knowledge that he would soon feel it made him hot with arousal. It would be okay - as long as they were discreet about it. “Yeah, fine,” he repeated, turning off the overhead light so that only the cool white light from the distant bridge remained.

“Well, alright then,” Holden perked up. He reached out to Bill’s knee and lay his palm on it, running it gently up and down his broad thigh, enjoying the feeling of the stretched flannel under his skin. “What would you like?”

Bill laughed. “Oh, no, no. I’m not asking. You can forget that shit.”

“I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.”

“I tell you what. You keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll soon let you know if I don’t like it.” It might have sounded a little harsh, but he wasn’t begging, and he certainly wasn’t starting any dirty talk; they either did this the old-fashioned way or not at all.

“Okay,” Holden shrugged as he lifted his hand and brought the other across to undo one of his shirt buttons.

“I don’t need my shirt off for this.”

“No,” Holden agreed, “but I like the way you look.”

Bill could never find a suitable response to Holden’s jarringly open and honest remarks, so decided to say nothing at all, quietly allowing him to continue until the last button was free. He leaned forward and took off his shirt after watching Holden clumsily try to get it off, then threw it in the back and slouched into the seat in his vest, the mound of his gut straining the fabric. “Well, there it is,” he said, loosely gesturing a hand towards his body then resting it on his thigh,“In all its glory.” He wasn’t ashamed of the way he looked, he had stopped caring about things like that at least a decade ago, but there was no denying that he wasn’t in his prime, so he approached it with realism and humour. Holden didn’t laugh though, but instead appraised him with roaming eyes.

Despite the thin layer of fat on Bill’s upper arms and chest, there was heavy musculature beneath it - perhaps one enduring from a previously more physically active period, or maybe one from a current fitness regime at odds with an otherwise more sedentary lifestyle - but it lent him a combination of strength and softness that Holden found profoundly appealing. It was the sort of body you would want a hug from - should Bill ever feel the urge to do such a thing - but also the sort of body you would want wrapped around you during sex: large and powerful yet cushioning and warm.

He reached out, rummaging through the peek of chest hair before cupping the swell of his tit through the thin cotton vest and giving it a squeeze. Bill’s nipple was erect beneath his touch, and he ran his palm over it a few times just to feel the gentle scrape of it against his skin, noting the soft exhale above him. Letting his hand drop lower, he followed the curve of his belly down to the waistband of his pants and was delighted to find the crotch of them bulging around his hard cock.

Bill watched as Holden extended his middle finger and tentatively curled the tip over the tent of his erection. It was only a light caress, and was almost childish in its aimless fiddling, but it was enough to make him swallow hard. Another hand reached across to undo his belt - a sound of metal clinking as it was unclasped, followed by the high squeak of the zipper. They were ordinary enough noises, but ones that seemed far cruder above the quiet chittering of the crickets.

His breath hitched when Holden reached into his underwear and wrapped his hand around him, dragging his dick out until it leapt free and stood stiff in front of him. The warm air - still pleasantly cooler than the confines of his pants - was a relief, but it made him feel incredibly exposed. He glanced at the reflection in wing-mirror to make sure there was nobody there before continuing to observe Holden.

The sight of Bill’s cock standing upright against his vest was a gratifying one - it looked even better than Holden remembered. The heavily veined stalk of it was a deep pink colour - though it looked even darker in the dim light - and the retracted foreskin showed off the smooth, and wonderfully fat bulb of its head. He thumbed at the underside of it and a little bit of pre-cum leaked out, sitting tantalisingly in the slit.

He gave his cock a few long, slow tugs - ones that made Bill sigh contentedly - then began to add a little extra pressure as he reached the tip in an attempt to wring out a bit more fluid. It worked, and when enough had gathered that it dribbled down the side, he dipped his head down and ran the flat of his tongue over it.

“Christ,” Bill gasped, his dick jumping in Holden’s hand. He hadn’t expected the sudden sensation of a scalding, wet tongue on him, in fact, he hadn’t expected any tongue to be involved at all. This did _not_ have the subtlety of a jerk-off, and the last thing he needed was a truck driver to see Holden’s head bobbing up and down between his legs. _He had to tell him to stop_. But just as he was about to, Holden enclosed his lips around the crown of his cock and started to suck, using his hand to gently work the rest of his length with a slight rotation each time. _God, it was perfect._ Against his better judgement, he abandoned his admonishment, tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

He continued to lie there with his legs spread wide across the car seat, arms hanging by his sides as he was slowly sucked off, but when he looked down, watching as his tip dipped shallowly between pink, puckered lips, he found that his arm had risen of its own volition and now hovered above Holden’s head. He froze, not knowing himself what he wanted to do with it.

Holden stopped stroking him but kept his mouth moving and reached up, placing his hand on top of his and guiding it towards his scalp before making it press lightly down on his head.

Bill flinched at the gesture. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t force people onto his cock. But the idea of having Holden take him a little deeper and at his own chosen pace was a tempting one, so hesitantly, he began to nudge him down a little at a time. It felt good, and he started to raise his hips at the same time, pushing Holden onto him with every steady lift, a little faster and a little deeper each time until he was bucking into his throat.

“Uhn…Fuck,” he groaned.

He had been too far gone to notice how rough he had become, and suddenly heard Holden choking around his cock. He quickly wrenched him off by his hair, watching him cough and splutter upon being freed. “Shit. Sorry,” he breathed. “You alright?”

Holden let out and elated laugh as he gasped for air, wiping the saliva off his chin. It had been a challenge to take him like that, and he wasn’t quite skilled enough to have succeeded for long, but it was enough, and experiencing that kind of rawness from Bill was absolutely worth it. “I may…need…to work on that,” he panted.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Felt good though, right?” Holden grinned as he sat back in the seat and began untying his shoelaces.

“Well, yeah, but…” His sentence trailed off when he noticed Holden ferreting around and wondered what he was doing. He was going to ask, but really, there was no point.

Holden removed his socks and folded them, placing them neatly in his shoes and then began unbuckling his pants. He pulled them off and lay them on top of the pile along with his underwear then sat back, naked from waist down, and gestured towards his upward-curving cock that poked up from the bottom his shirt.

“Oh _, I_ see,” Bill laughed. “So _you_ wanna turn? Right now?”

“I mean, I think it’s fair.”

“No. Fair would be waiting ‘til after I’m done.” But Holden tilted his head to the side and stared at him. He wasn’t budging.

“Ah, fine,” he sighed in defeat, looking at the shiny pink head of Holden’s prick.

He knew Holden wanted a blow-job and that his hand wouldn’t suffice, but he was always a bit apprehensive about it. Holden always seemed far more comfortable performing the act than he did, and while he had done it to him a few times before, every time he had, it felt like he was winging it, trying to carry out a task he was more familiar with receiving. _Fair was fair though right?_ _Fuck it._

He grasped Holden’s dick and held his stare for a few more seconds, then leaned down, took the head in his mouth, and gave it a hard suck.

Holden gasped and curled his hand around the edge of the car seat. It wasn’t as though he was unaccustomed to receiving blow-jobs, but the tightness of Bill’s grip, the coarseness of his palm, and the pressure of his mouth made this unlike any other he had been given.

He moaned softly as Bill proceeded to swallow him, inch by inch, until, on one deep suck, he felt warm, wet lips press into his pubic hair. He closed his eyes briefly, but couldn't bear the thought of missing anything, so looked down to watch Bill moving up and down on him at an even pace, hollowing his cheeks and working his square jaw. It was indelicate - unapologetically so - but that was part of the appeal, as was the sheen of sweat on the back of his wide neck, and the way that the front lick of his grey buzzcut hung forward, roughly disheveled with the humidity. He reached out to Bill’s head… then quickly withdrew his hand. He wasn’t stupid.

He was just getting used to the rhythm when Bill started to swirl his tongue around the head after every few sucks. The experimental gesture gave a surprising contrast to his no-nonsense approach to oral sex, but the dual sensations felt unbelievable on his cock. “Oh, _God_ , that feels good. That feels really amazmmmph-” But his voice was muffled as a large hand reached up and engulfed his mouth, silencing him. He breathed hotly against the palm, squirming slightly, but abruptly began making frantic noises until Bill let go of his face.

“Stop…stop, I… I’m going to come. Stop.”

Bill lifted off his cock and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Isn’t that the point?” he asked, breathing a little heavier.

“Well…yes…Eventually…yes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

But he had barely finished the sentence when Holden pushed him back in his seat then crawled awkwardly across into his lap, settling his knees either side of his thighs, and putting his finger in his mouth.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Holden paused, looking at him curiously, then pulled his finger out with a wet pop, his lips fixed in a small ‘o’ as if it were still there. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

“ _Jesus_ , Holden. Yes. It’s a rhetorical question. _Clearly_ I know what you’re doing.”

“Okay…so we have an understanding then.”

“What? No. _Me understanding_ does not mean that _we have an understanding,_ ” Bill lectured, yet the feeling of Holden’s skin against his and the sight of his legs spread wide across him went straight to his cock. Another minute and he could be inside him, moving in and out of the tight heat of his body, all that pent up need satisfied in a five-minute fuck. He quickly turned to look out the rear car window. A vehicle hadn’t passed in the last hour, but it was no guarantee.

“Asides from the fact that there’s no _way_ we should be doing this in a car by the side of the road, we have a job to do. What if we miss our guy?”

“I don’t think it’s going to be tonight.”

The unfounded conviction in his voice was baffling yet humorous in its sheer arrogance, and for all his protests, Bill suddenly found himself laughing. “I _see._ Your faultless intuition again, right?”

“Not a strong enough water current to carry a body,” Holden said dismissively, as if it were a trivial matter, laying his emphasis instead on: “Which makes it the _perfect_ night for…”

“For what? For you to ride my dick?”

The bluntness of it caught Holden off-guard, and Bill couldn’t hold back his smile as Holden struggled to find a reply.

“Come on then,” he said, but his tone was gentle. “I don’t need to remind you that this is illegal," he cautioned, "So let’s make it quick.”

Holden nodded and put his finger back in his mouth, gave it a suck, then removed it carefully so that as much spit remained as possible. He reached behind himself and fumbled about quietly for a few seconds looking up at the car roof. He had done this a number of times now but he still found it a delicate process.

Bill watched as Holden felt around, and could tell the exact moment he breached himself: his body stilling and his mouth opening slightly as he let out a quiet exhale. A small part of him wanted to watch it go in, wanted to see him work his hole open as he prepared himself for his sex, but now was not the time, so instead he kept his eyes on him as he shoved his pants down to his knees, spat into his hand and smeared it over his dick then held it straight, ready for Holden to take a seat.

Holden took Bill’s cock from him, pressing the head against his entrance. The contact of it alone made his heart start to race and his hole trembled with the anticipation of being filled.

Bill could feel it flutter, and was never sure if it was from nerves, excitement, or both, but while he couldn’t identify with the experience of taking a cock, he could easily discern that it was no simple task, so he didn’t rush him despite the urgency of their situation, the last thing he wanted was to hurt him.

After a few false starts, Holden began to gently lower himself on his tip. “Steady now. That’s right…There you go,” he quietly soothed.

Holden found the words as calming as he did encouraging, and he relaxed his muscles, bracing himself with one hand on a meaty shoulder and began the long steady slide down onto Bill’s cock. The fill of it was overwhelming and a throaty noise escaped through his open mouth as his hole stretched around the girth of it. Bill joined it with a low, resonant groan, and clutched his thigh with a warm palm.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

Taking in the final inch, Holden settled in his lap and took a deep breath, “It’s…” and another, “…It’s been a while.” But without waiting for a response he slowly began to roll his hips.

Bill smoothed his hands over Holden’s backside and started guiding him back and forth, creating a little more momentum but nothing more, just to feel the silky tightness of his walls gripping his dick.

Holden was grateful for the help and reassured by Bill’s warm, steady hands on his body. “God, I missed this,” he breathed, grinning, “You missed it too right? -Ah- Tell me you missed it." But the request was playful.

“I’m not telli-”

“-Okay, how about you -Mm- tell me that you _didn’t_ miss it.”

“I…” But Bill could hardly deny it, not when his fond gaze gave him away so easily, not when Holden could feel it in his touch and see it in his eyes. “You’re a manipulative little shit sometimes Holden,” he smiled, “C’mere. You wanted to ride my dick, didn’t you? Put some work into it.”

Holden smiled back, rose on his knees, grasped the back of his neck and quickly began to jounce up and down on his cock. They both started groaning then, Holden’s movements gradually becoming so energetic that the top of his head started to thud against the roof of the car.

It was so loud that Holden was sure he was going to get a telling-off for making a racket, but to his amazement, Bill instead hauled him close, placed a gentle hand on the back of his head and encouraged him down so that their cheeks brushed. He held him there, and began quickly thrusting up into him from beneath, breathing hard against his ear.

He wanted to linger on the sweetness of the gesture, but the movement had Bill bucking into him so feverishly that he could do nothing but moan and take it. He tilted his hips slightly, and from there, it took only a few seconds before Bill began rapidly hitting his prostate. He let out a long juddering cry, the sensation unique and shattering.

Bill knew that cry by now - it meant that Holden wouldn’t last must longer. It was just as well, because neither would he; a combination of the time spent without this, the blow-job that had almost made him come, and the frenetic pace of their intercourse, would make it impossible for him to delay his orgasm much further.

“Bill…I…” Holden warned him, leaning back enough that Bill saw the desperate pull of his eyebrows as he clumsily slipped his cock through the curl of his hand. He only managed it a couple more times before giving a high whine, stilling, then ejaculating with one long burst of fluid followed by two weaker ones across the fabric of his vest, clenching his hole as it exited him.

The tightness of him as he climaxed, the pitiful sound he made, and the sight of his spend, spittering from his dick, was enough to push Bill over the edge. He sucked a hiss through his teeth then let the air out in a loud, sharp grunt as he came, digging his fingers into the cheeks of Holden’s ass.

Holden felt the force of Bill’s release against his insides, long, warm floods of it, and as he saw him through it, he knew he would spend the rest of the night with it trickling out of him: slippery and uncomfortable, but completely worth it.

*

They stayed there panting for a good minute before Bill finally managed to catch his breath long enough to say: “Off,” with a lazy slap to his thigh.

Holden dragged himself up off his cock, watching as it slid out and lay limp against a hairy thigh, then retreated to his own seat, dropping his head back.

For the first time tonight, he had nothing to say, nothing that mattered anyway, so they sat there gazing out onto the river in silence, listening to the crickets, and for some reason, the night now seemed more peaceful than it did half an hour ago.

Bill tucked himself back into his underwear, pulled up his pants, settled in his seat then turned his head to him but moved nothing else, too tired to exert himself further.

“Who’s the better singer, who would win in a fight, or who would I sleep with?” he asked.

For a moment, Holden had no idea what he was talking about, but when it clicked, he grinned and shook his head.

“Any. All,” he said, facing Bill equally as lazily.

“Gaynor’s the better singer, Streisand would win in a fight, and both of them would have to wine and dine me first.”

“That is very interesting,” he nodded slowly, “I mean… I don’t agree, but-”

“-Of course you don’t,” Bill smiled, completely unsurprised.

Holden paused, looking thoughtful. “You know, technically _I’ve_ wined and dined you… if coffee and donuts count.”

“Exactly. Which is why we’ve just had sex.”

Holden pulled his neck in and squinted, frowning. “Wow. Your standards are really low.”

“My standards are low, but my tolerance for idiocy is exceptionally high.”

Holden started to laugh, and whether Bill wanted to admit it or not, it was among the best sounds he knew. “Alright, you’re on watch. Let an old man sleep, will you?” he said sagging into the seat.

“And Holden…” he added, and Holden looked at him expectantly.

“...For Christ’s sake, put your pants back on,” he finished with a smirk before closing his eyes.

Holden smiled.

_It was good to have him back._

_*_

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. It was fun to write. 
> 
> I love Bill, he's my favourite 'daddy' type character and I can't get enough of him. It would be fun to write a Bottom!Bill fic, but I can't imagine the idea would be too popular since he's such a Top. It's okay, I can imagine it in my head. XD I actually think it would be kind of sweet. :)
> 
> Thank you for reading. :D


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